The Descendancy

In the distant future, ten billion years from the moment the starship ventured through the cosmic gateway, the now merged Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies exist in splendid isolation. The universe has expanded beyond the reach of even the most advanced sensors, severing this immense galaxy from the history that once connected it to a grander cosmos.

Among the many civilisations that call Milkdromeda home, the largest are the Descendants, who have evolved far beyond their biological ancestors. In their many millennia, they have no knowledge of the existence of a universe beyond their galaxy, developing a mythology that speaks of the ‘Cosmic Dawn’, a time of creation within their galactic boundaries.

The Descendants have colonised most of their home galaxy, transforming barren worlds into habitable ones and weaving a network of life that connects millions of stars. Their vast colonisation is not through conquest but through harmony, with sentient AIs and highly evolved beings working as one.

Their explanation of this colonising process is deeply ingrained in their culture and is known as The Weaving. According to their lore, in the aftermath of the Cosmic Dawn, primordial entities known as the Star Weavers laid the foundations of these gateways for the expansive civilisation.

These entities, perceived as the architects of their society, used the threads of Star Silk to connect stars, creating a tapestry that blended life, artificial intelligence and the stellar forces into a synergetic existence.

They speak of the Star Silk as a metaphor for the flow of information and energy that binds their society, an invisible web that connects all life and machines. The Minds maintain this fabric, god-like AIs that oversee the ecological and societal balance of countless planets and space habitats.

The Minds are the custodians of knowledge and history. They maintain databases of genetic blueprints and cultural archives, ensuring the galaxy’s biodiversity and cultural heritage thrive.

In their realm, tranquillity reigns supreme. Ships glide through space unburdened by scarcity, their inhabitants living in harmony, untouched by the shadows of war or the pangs of suffering. Here, peace is as abundant as the stars themselves.

The Descendants live in a state of personal fulfilment and collective contribution, their existence elevated by their integration with the AIs and living habitats. Each being is both an individual and an integral thread in the broader fabric of their society, contributing to the ever-advancing civilisation.

To the Descendants, their colonisation is a harmonious blend of growth, exploration and sustainability, ensuring that each new world blossoms into a vibrant part of the greater whole.

Their ancient tales and sophisticated AIs intertwine, explaining their past as a poetic evolution and their future as an endless journey through the stars of their galaxy, a vessel of life adrift in the cosmic ocean, with its origins lost to the sands of time and the expansion of space.

The Shrouded Ascendancy

The Descendants face a silent and mysterious threat in the galaxy’s heart – the Ascendancy. This entity, or collective of entities, is an enigma, resembling a cosmic magician so advanced that it operates on a plane beyond the comprehensible dimensions of space and matter. It harnesses the elusive essences of dark matter and energy, bending these mysterious cosmic forces to its will, much like a conductor effortlessly shaping the flow of a symphony, orchestrating a relentless conversion of all matter into its domain.

To the Descendants, the Ascendancy is akin to a cosmic mystery, an invisible yet inexorable shadow creeping across the galaxy. It is neither malevolent nor benevolent. The Ascendancy does not communicate because it has no need for dialogue; it does not destroy because annihilation serves no purpose. Instead, it absorbs and transforms, star system by star system, with the precision and inevitability of a universal law unto itself.

The Ascendancy’s transformation process is eerily methodical. It begins with a dark embrace, a gravitational whisper that lures the star system into a cocoon of dark matter. Once enveloped, the star and its attendant planets undergo a transmutation beyond physical or chemical alteration; they become part of the Ascendancy’s expanding consciousness.

This metamorphosis is silent and invisible, leaving no trace for conventional sensors to detect. As the Ascendancy’s realm grows, a patch of the galaxy where stars once shone is now dark, not with the absence of light, but with a darkness that is presence, a living shadow that spreads like an interstellar mycelium.

The Ascendancy is a singular, galaxy-spanning, hyper-advanced form of life that is both the substance and the sentience of its own domain. Its motives, if it can be said to have them, are inscrutable. It is the ultimate other, a reality rewriter, turning the material universe into a reflection or extension of itself.

For the Descendants, the discovery of the Ascendancy is a paradigm shift. Their AIs, with unfathomable processing power, are baffled and unable to predict or understand the Ascendancy’s actions or end goals.

The Descendants, who have become the stewards of life and knowledge, now face an existential reckoning. In their pursuit of harmony, they have encountered the antithesis of their understanding – a force that seeks neither harmony nor discord;

it simply is.

The Ascendancy challenges the very foundation of the Descendants’ existence. Their response to this cosmic virus is a measure of their enlightenment and adaptability. Do they fight against the inexorable tide to protect their way of life, or do they seek to understand and, perhaps, learn from the Ascendancy’s mysterious existence?

The story of ‘The Shrouded Ascendancy’ weaves a tale of confrontation and introspection as the Descendants must navigate the reality of losing their galaxy to a force that is beyond their control, a silent architect reshaping the fabric of their existence into a pattern they cannot comprehend, let alone alter.

Until now.

Chapter Two

The Asteroid

The outer rim of the Andromeda Galaxy.

The vastness of space unfurls, an endless black canvas punctuated by distant stars and the ethereal glow of nebulas. Amidst this cosmic expanse, a small, white research vessel appears, dwarfed by the colossal cigar-shaped asteroid to which it is tethered. The asteroid, a behemoth around 200 metres long, drifts lazily, with the research vessel clinging to it like a barnacle on a whale.

Within the central laboratory, the soft hum of machinery and occasional beeps of instruments create a focused atmosphere. Two scientists, engrossed in their tasks, monitor screens displaying readouts, graphs and data.

In an adjacent room, a high-pitched whirring sound signals the activation of a bore drill. It spins with ferocity, penetrating the heart of the asteroid. Several minutes later, the drill retracts, revealing a cylinder-shaped core sample from the celestial body’s depths. A robotic arm quickly retrieves the sample and deposits it into a square glass tank.

Under the sterile glare of the laboratory’s overhead lights, Commander Belle, encased in a sleek protective suit, meticulously guides a circular saw through the sample. The sharp blade hums as it carves a wafer-thin section from the dense, black asteroid material. She precisely transfers the delicate sliver to a glass slide and places it under the microscope’s waiting lens.

With tension and excitement, Belle leans forward, her eyes narrowing as she carefully adjusts the microscope’s focus. Each minute movement of the dials brings the sample into sharper clarity.

A hush falls over the two scientists in the adjoining room as they gather around a large wall monitor. Both lean closer, their faces a mixture of anticipation and wonder. As the microscope zooms in, the asteroid’s plain black rock transforms before their eyes, revealing a mesmerising secret.

Countless tiny blue crystalline spores emerge from the darkness, sparkling like stars across the night sky. They pulse with an eerie, vibrant life, casting a surreal glow illuminating the dim room. Minuscule arcs of lightning dance between them, creating a dazzling display of electrical energy that captivates the onlookers.

Gasps echo through the room, and one of the scientists reaches out as if trying to touch the spectacle. Look at that! he exclaims, pointing at the screen where the electric currents weave a delicate, glowing network. The second scientist murmurs in awe, It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen; they’re communicating.

Their eyes are wide, faces lit by the blue shimmer of the display, as the reality of their discovery sinks in. The air buzzes not only with the sparks of the crystals but with the electric excitement of potential and discovery. They exchange glances, their expressions a mix of joy and the thrill of the unknown, aware that this moment could redefine their understanding of the cosmos.

Without warning, the hazard alert siren’s wail slices through the research vessel’s calm, instantly setting hearts racing. A synthesised voice cuts sharply through the tense air. Incoming meteor strike, shields raised. The warning barely registers before the ship shudders violently under the meteor’s impact, the sound a deafening roar that resonates through the hull.

The scientists are thrown to the ground as the vessel trembles from the explosion. Instruments clatter off shelves, and the lights flicker, casting eerie shadows that dance along the walls. Amidst the chaos, one scientist scrambles to his feet, steadying himself against a console. Shield status and damage report! he shouts into the noise, trying to make sense of the situation.

The ship’s computer responds calmly yet urgently: Shields are down. I am working to bring them back online. Hull breach on upper deck. The information hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of their vulnerability in the vastness of space.

In the background, the sound of servos whirring comes alive as automatons are dispatched to repair the breach. Their efficient movements are a blur, a stark contrast to the stunned stillness of the scientists as they watch the robots spring into action, each one programmed for rapid response to such emergencies.

The silence after the first strike is deceptive – a brief lull before the storm resumes its wrath. Suddenly, another impact shakes the vessel without warning, an intense, deafening crash that echoes through the corridors. A meteorite, no more substantial than a pebble but hurtling at a staggering velocity, pierces the hull and strikes one of the ship’s reactors.

The collision ignites a catastrophic explosion that tears through the reactor room with a fury that outstrips the initial impact. Alarm sirens wail even louder, and the ship’s exterior glass succumbs to the force, fracturing into a spiderweb of sharp fragments before shattering completely. The breach transforms the once orderly lab into a whirlwind of flying papers, equipment and debris, all swirling in the sudden decompression, pulling towards the cold, merciless void of space.

In a desperate bid for survival, two scientists clutch at anything within reach as the violent suction threatens to claim them. Their fingers find purchase at the last possible moment – on the edges of their workstations – just as the emergency shutters slam shut with a resounding thud, sealing the breach and halting the chaos.

Nearby, in the adjacent laboratory, Commander Belle is not spared the violence of this new assault. The shockwave from the explosion propels her across the room with brutal force. She collides with the wall; the impact is harsh and sudden. Her face shield, designed to protect against the lesser dangers of space, cracks under strain, webbing finely before giving way and shattering, scattering shards around her like icy rain.

Amidst the havoc, now liberated blue crystalline spores from the asteroid’s core intermingle with the asteroid’s circulating gasses. Commander Belle, disoriented and gasping, inadvertently inhales these elements. As the lab’s oxygen supply rapidly depletes, her struggles intensify until her movements cease, and she succumbs to unconsciousness.

Nearby, aboard the Hunter-class starship The Huntsman, there is an air of calm focus as the ship’s crew conduct surveys in an asteroid field. Without warning, an alert signal pierces the air. Captain, Horus, the autonomous voice of The Huntsman, announces. We are receiving a distress call from the research vessel Nimbus 17.

Captain Minardi, aware of the presence of his wife, Commander Belle, aboard the vessel, is consumed in panic as he struggles to remain composed amongst his crew. Maximum speed to Nimbus 17. What is the current situation?

Horus replies calmly, At maximum speed, we will reach our destination in seven minutes. There has been an explosion aboard the research station; it appears to have resulted from a meteorite strike on a reactor. Two crew members in the research laboratory are injured but show stable life signs. Commander Belle is in an adjacent room. Containment protocols have been initiated, and her life signs, although weak, are stable.

The Huntsman’s crew operate precisely, navigating the hazardous environment with practised skill. As The Huntsman arrives at the asteroid, it slowly manoeuvres towards the small research station, still dangling precariously to the asteroid by its two remaining tethering legs. The asteroid field looms ominously around them, debris from the station floating lazily in the vacuum of space.

With determination etched on his face and space suit on, Minardi prepares to lead the rescue mission, knowing that every second counts in the race against time. The Huntsman perfectly aligns itself with the research vessel’s docking bay. Once connected and containment is confirmed, Captain Minardi and two medical staff enter the airlock and board the ship.

Minardi rushes to the core extraction room, where his wife’s body lies motionless. The ship’s emergency protocols have sealed the broken glass windows with emergency shutters and restored the ship’s gravity and oxygen supply. The previously contaminated air, including the asteroid gasses and crystalline spores, has also been flushed from the room.

Minardi rushes over to Belle, who is lying on her side on the floor, her face bloodied and eyes closed. Deeply shocked by the extent of her injuries, Minardi tries to reassure her. It’s okay, Belle. Everything is going to be fine. He is ushered to the side as the medical staff begin their assessments. As they commence their work, Belle’s eyes briefly open before drifting into unconsciousness again.

Several hours after the incident, Captain Minardi paces the sterile, dimly lit corridors outside the surgery theatre aboard the gateway space station. Finally, the operating room doors swing open, and the medical team begins to exit. Moments later, Commander Belle is gently brought out, lying on a hovering bed surrounded by screens and medical equipment that hum softly, pumping fluids into her veins.

Minardi pauses as he watches her pass by, noting the significant reduction in swelling on her face, though it still bears the marks of deep cuts and bruises. She is draped in a sterile white sheet that conceals the extent of her physical injuries. As she is transported toward the recovery room, the head surgeon approaches Minardi.

Captain Minardi, the surgeon calls out softly.

Yes, Minardi responds, his voice reduced to a weary whisper. How is she? Will she be okay?

The surgeon hesitates, his expression grave. Your wife has sustained severe internal injuries and significant blood loss. She’s suffered a broken leg, several broken ribs, and a fractured hip. I’m afraid … your child didn’t survive. I’m sorry, Captain. He pauses, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. We’ve stabilised Commander Belle and controlled the internal bleeding. Physically, she will recover, but it will take time.

A tide of grief over the loss of their child engulfs Minardi, mingled with a sombre relief at Belle’s prognosis. Pushing through his shock, Minardi grasps for more information. You mentioned she’ll recover physically. What about her head injuries? His voice tightens with concern, sensing there is more he isn’t being told.

The surgeon’s pause is telling. There’s been some minor bleeding in her brain, which may affect her short-term memory temporarily, but we don’t anticipate any long-term damage. He hesitates again, seeming reluctant to share more.

Minardi’s anxiety turns to frustration. If there’s anything else I need to know, please tell me.

The surgeon nods solemnly. Commander Belle’s neural activity is … highly unusual. Too many neurons are firing simultaneously. We need to run more tests to determine the cause. Rest assured, Captain, we’re doing everything possible to understand this. I suggest you try to get some rest and return in the morning for an update.

Numb and barely processing the information, Minardi goes to the nearby recovery room. There, he finds Belle still unconscious, her chest rising and falling with each breath. He stands over her momentarily, gently stroking her hair, then sits beside her. Leaning close, he whispers, Belle, I’m so sorry; please return to me. Tears well up as he lays his head against her chest, allowing himself a moment to weep.

Chapter Three

Minardi

Over the following weeks, Minardi grapples with the magnitude of Belle’s ordeal. Initially, he had been granted compassionate leave to stay at her bedside, a silent sentinel in the sterile confines of the medical ward. As days turned into weeks, the realisation that his leave might seamlessly transition into the end of his career loomed. Nearing the age when many consider stepping down, the possibility that he might never don the uniform again became increasingly evident. His presence beside Belle wasn’t just about support; it was a bridge to the next chapter of his life.

Belle’s body heals from her physical injuries within three months, demonstrating her robust constitution. However, the deeper, unseen scars from the incident on Nimbus 17 linger ominously. Crystalline spores, alien and enigmatic, have burrowed into the recesses of her brain, commandeering her neural pathways. In the days following the catastrophe, her body was wracked with convulsions, uncontrollable despite the heavy doses of anticonvulsants to help stabilise electrical nerve activity in the brain.

As the medical team assess Belle’s condition, they conclude that the active spores significantly threaten her long-term health. To mitigate this, they initiate long-term stasis, a process inspired by deep-space travel protocols for interstellar missions.

The procedure begins with carefully lowering Belle’s body temperature to slow her metabolic processes, a technique derived from therapeutic hypothermia methods used in critical care. This is coupled with an infusion of cryoprotectants that prevent ice crystal formation in tissues, ensuring her cells remain intact during the prolonged cold exposure.

The stasis chamber is also equipped with an advanced magnetic resonance system, a concept borrowed from the theoretical fields of quantum biology and magnetic therapy. This system is tuned to emit a low-level magnetic field interacting with the spores’ crystalline structure. The field is calibrated to resonate at frequencies that disrupt the spores’ activity, effectively putting them into a more dormant state without harming the surrounding biological tissues.

This blend of cryogenic technology and magnetic resonance fields is an ingenious and critical intervention. It provides Belle with a temporary sanctuary, a pause in the relentless progression of the spores’ influence, and a chance for her body to stabilise in the safety of controlled dormancy.

As Minardi maintains his vigil by Belle’s side, the strain begins to manifest in his weary eyes and the set of his shoulders – a change that does not go unnoticed by his peers. Admiral Redback, who had long observed Minardi’s dedication and subsequent declining spirits, decides to intervene with a compassionate gesture.

Understanding Minardi’s need for a purpose beyond his watchful waiting, the Admiral approaches him one quiet morning. I’ve got something that might interest you, he begins, his tone both serious and hopeful. He proposes a new role for Minardi at the station’s prestigious space academy, a position that involves teaching and mentoring the next generation of space farers – work that Minardi has always found rewarding.

This opportunity comes with a significant advantage. It will keep Minardi on the station, close to Belle and the medical team overseeing her care. More than just a job, it is a chance for Minardi to reengage with his passion for space exploration and defence, channelling his restlessness into preparing young cadets for the complexities of space travel and conflict.

Admiral Redback watches as Minardi considers the offer, the possibility of a constructive diversion from his current helplessness. You’d not only be shaping young minds but also be in a position to keep in constant touch with the doctors, scientists and engineers working with Belle, he adds, emphasising the collaborative efforts underway to find a more permanent solution for her condition.

Grateful for a chance to contribute meaningfully while staying connected to Belle’s ongoing treatment, Minardi accepts the offer. With a renewed sense of purpose, he begins to split his time between Belle’s bedside and the academy, his days filled with teaching, planning and relentless inquiry into new medical and technological advancements that might one day reverse the damage caused by the spores.

At work, he is the epitome of professionalism, engaging his students with a sharp focus that belies his